


Cuffed for Science

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: For Science John, For Science!, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, It's For a Case, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock storms into the bathroom to find John with his pants down. "Good! Just like I need you. it's for a case!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuffed for Science

“I require your  assistance John,” Sherlock opened the bathroom door.

“Sherlock!” John had his pants half up. “Knock, you bloody bastard!”

“No, no, you won’t need your pants. Or trousers.”

John stared daggers at his flatmate. “What do you need that won’t require pants?” he asked evenly, mentally counting to twenty.

“Come to my bedroom.”

John closed his eyes and upped the count to forty. “I’m not gay, Sherlock.”

“A man’s life depends on this, John, I need your assistance. I need to see how long it takes you to achieve orgasm.”

The mental count went to eighty before John opened his eyes. “Really?”

Sherlock gave John one of his looks. “It must be you, I cannot keep track of the various factors while masturbating myself. Besides. You need to be bound.”

John stared at him. “You want to tie me up and then do what?”

“Masturbate you. Do keep up, John. My bed is closer.”

John scrunched his face, thinking for a moment while Sherlock fairly buzzed with excitement. He finally sighed. “Okay.”

“Excellent.” Sherlock turned for his bedroom, leaving John with his trousers around his ankles. Shaking his head at himself, John got the trousers and pants off, leaving them in the bathroom. Sherlock was standing by the bed with a pair of handcuffs and a small bottle.

“Are those Lestrade’s?” asked John, peeling off his jumper.

“Not this pair, no,” said Sherlock. “And you do not need to be nude. Come here.”

Part of John’s mind thought he had to have finally gone round the bend. Sherlock pushed him onto his back and cuffed him to the headboard. John licked his lips, aware he was already half hard.

“Now John, you cannot be too stimulated already, it’ll ruin the experiment.”

Sherlock got up and left the bedroom, leaving John staring at the ceiling. He tugged on the cuffs a bit, wondering what Sherlock was up to.

The man returned in a few moments. Before John could open his mouth Sherlock wrapped ice cold hands around his cock. “Jesus!” John swore and tried to jerk away. “What the bloody hell!”

“There, now you are no longer stimulated.”

“I’ll show you stimulated you….” He pulled against the cuffs.

Sherlock turned away to get a clip board. John kicked him off the bed. He landed with a grunt. “That was unnecessary,” said Sherlock from the floor.

“It was completely necessary,” growled John. “Your hands better be warm before you touch me again.”

“Of course,” he said, picking himself up. He leaned over John and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. “Are you comfortable?”

“Well except for the handcuffs and the mad flatmate and the ice cold hands, yes fine.”

“Good. Now according to my observations you are nearly perfectly average in volume.” He reached for the bottle.

“Way to make a bloke feel special,” growled John, watching him.

“Another reason to perform this experiment on you instead of myself,” he said, clearly not listening.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Relax, John.” Sherlock made a note on his clipboard before putting it down and dropping a generous dollop of lube in his hand. John licked his lips again, watching him. “Interesting,” said Sherlock, watching his cock stir.

Sherlock’s longs fingers wrapped around the base his cock, still on the cool side, but not icy. John panted as his hand slowly rose, orbiting the head before sliding back down. “Oh God,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

It seemed this was something else Sherlock had a surprising talent for. He squeezed, but not too hard, a firm pressure that his cock immediately responded to. A few more strokes and John was moaning, head rocking back against the pillow, hips rising to meet Sherlock’s hand.

Suddenly the sound of scratching distracted him. He looked down and realized Sherlock was writing with his other hand. “What the hell?”

“I need to record the data, John.”

John bit his lip. Hell. “Maybe you should try stimulus other than my cock?”

The pen stilled. “Isn’t that best way for you to achieve an orgasm?”

“Oh, it’ll work, yeah. But there’s other things you can do.”

“Enlighten me.”

John took a deep breath. Sherlock’s hand was warm and firm on his erection. “You can touch me other places, for one.”

“But I need to take notes.”

“Then use your mouth?” John could hardly believe he was saying this. But hell, he was already lying handcuffed to Sherlock’s bed, shirt pushed up and cock in his flatmates hand.

“Is that sanitary?” Sherlock wrinkled his nose.

“You’ve never had a blow job before?”

“I have seen the contents of your laptop,” said Sherlock, starting to stroke again. “And your internet search history.”

John rocked up against his hand, not surprised in the least. “Well then, focus. The writing is distracting.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Are you challenging me, John Watson?”

Meeting his eyes, a small smile curled John’s lips. “What if I am?”

Dropping the pen, Sherlock’s free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently in his hand as he started stroking John in earnest. Gasping, John writhed, but was unable to get away from Sherlock’s hands. “God,” he groaned.

Sherlock palmed the head of his cock, smearing precum along with the lube. He twisted his hand as he continued stroking. Warmth built in his belly under Sherlock’s precise strokes.  John’s mouth fell open, gasping under the onslaught, cuffs rattling against the headboard.

Suddenly Sherlock grasped the base of his cock to stop him cumming. John gasped and opened his eyes.  “Sherlock!” his voice went higher pitch.

A wicked little grin ghosted on Sherlock’s face. He glanced over and made a note on his clipboard. “That should be sufficient. You would have achieved orgasm at this point.”

John let lose a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Sherlock watched him. “Perhaps I should give you time to calm down?”

“Sherlock Holmes.” John’s voice went low and dangerous.

“Yes?” He said blandly but his eyes watched him.

“It is in the interest of your continued existence that you uncuff me.”

“Really, John?” Sherlock shifted, drawing the key from his pocket. He moved closer, carefully not to touch John “What do you plan on doing once you’re free?” He dropped his voice to a low growl close to John’s ear, hovering just over him.

“Let me free and find out,” said John through gritted teeth.

Most of the blood was in John’s southern regions, but he heard the click as one hand was freed. In a heartbeat he yanked his hand free and locked Sherlock in the cuff instead. Sherlock blinked as John dropped his hand to his erection, staring at Sherlock.

Sherlock bit his lip, watching John’s face as he wrapped his palm around himself, closing his eyes a moment. He opened his eyes again and looked down at Sherlock’s trousers. “Seems you’re not an entirely impartial observer.”

“Merely an involuntary reaction,” said Sherlock evenly.

“Oh?” John reached for Sherlock’s fly. The man made no move to stop him. John’s eyebrow went up as he realized Sherlock wasn’t wearing any pants. “An experiment for a case?”

“Yes,” there was slightest hitch to Sherlock’s voice as John withdrew him.

“Then don’t you need to repeat the experiment to verify the results?”

“That…is true.” Sherlock’s eyes closed as John started stroking him, his free hand fisting by his side.

John shifted and pushed him onto his back. They were still cuffed together through the headboard, but he found he wasn’t in a hurry to free himself as Sherlock arched up against his hand. A moan escaped Sherlock’s lips as John ran his thumb along the slit.

“Touch me, Sherlock. Finish what you started.” John ordered with a growl.

Sherlock opened his eyes and reached over to stroke John. He shifted closer, tugging Sherlock’s arm farther up as his own cuff came down. John moved his hand faster, gasping again as Sherlock met his challenge.

John tipped over the edge first with how close he’d been. He groaned and came hard, staining the sheets, but keeping his grip on Sherlock as the man stroked him through his orgasm. Sherlock moaned and John felt him come over his hand a few moments later.

Opening his eyes, John found Sherlock still had his own closed. The key lay near his curls. Reaching up, John grabbed it and unlocked himself. Shifting, he touched Sherlock’s locked wrist before grabbing his free one. Sherlock’s eye’s flew open but John locked him in the cuffs before he could pull away.

“John?” Sherlock tried to sit up.

Moving down to the end of the bed, John picked up the clipboard and pen. “So, what did you need to write down?”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
